I have no beautiful memories of you. Who am I kidding? Everything was coarse, abrupt, cold: precisely what I liked.
I am left with the provocative words that challenged my intelligence and courage.
I keep the moments of doubt, with your uncertainty before my presence, with your indecision between touching me or not.
I stay with your hands on my neck, with your fingers drowning moans inside my mouth.
I'll keep your intuition to pull my hair out at the right time.
I keep the scar left by your mouth on my right nipple.
I keep the invitations that I did not accept because the pain was too much.
In the end it hurt more than I expected.
I keep the pain that always turned into pleasure.
Photography by ecka's echo
My favorite sport is inflating egos.